


the disarmoring of Kylo Ren.

by Aviendha69



Series: Reylo Sexy One-Shots [10]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Eloping, F/M, Fingering, Fondling, Oral Sex, Reylo - Freeform, Seduction, Smuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:40:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28140300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aviendha69/pseuds/Aviendha69
Summary: Rey pries Ben Solo out of Kylo Ren's armor.Reylo-centric.It's really just fluffy smut.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Series: Reylo Sexy One-Shots [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1653184
Comments: 7
Kudos: 43





	the disarmoring of Kylo Ren.

He opened the little cell door and walked in. Rey stood to meet him, then, seeing him calm and unarmed, sat back down on the dark-grey padded cot. 

“So you’ve caught me, again. What are you going to do with me?” she asked politely. They were learning: no guards close, different electronics. Even the complex mechanical lock had been forced open. It was only a matter of time before she hacked her way out of this cell.

He stood before her silent, his thoughts hidden behind his patched mask, wrapped in his cloak of darkness. When he finally spoke, she found the vocoder’s distortion unbearable. 

“The Resistance would very much like to have you back, they would trade-

“Take that thing off!” Rey snapped. 

Kylo Ren jerked upright. 

Kylo knew he had made his first mistake when he had taken his mask off the first time. He had made his second mistake removing his glove to touch her fingers when he had answered her call through the Force-Bond. 

His third mistake had been keeping his glove  _ on  _ when he had pleaded for her to join him. 

He thought, after her third attempt at escaping the  _ Steadfast  _ he had managed to trap her on, that he had wasted all his chances to make her trust him. And, considering the way his heart wrung with every failed attempt, he didn’t want to risk anymore. 

“Please,” she added belatedly.

He shook his head. Why had he come here, to her cell? There was nothing he would gain from her. Even this polite visit, to inform her of her circumstance and what he hoped to negotiate for her release, even that could have been done by remote. 

But he was here, in this small room with her,  _ unable  _ to stay away. 

He continued: “The Resistance would trade some informa-”

“Ben, take that thing off.” 

“That is  _ not  _ my name.” He took a breath but suddenly he felt smothered in his own mask. 

“Kylo Ren does not exist,” she said softly, “Snoke constructed him; he is a lie, a mask. You know that now.”

“I am the Supreme Leader Kylo Ren,“ he reminded her. “ _ You  _ helped me become that.” It sounded like a reproach. Maybe it was. 

Rey had had enough. Bad enough she was trapped here with him, she did not have to see him trapped in his own armor as well. 

“I helped free you from Snoke,” she quietly countered. “Now remove that mask, or get out. Please.”

To remove his mask again, so he could see her with his own eyes, and she could see his face again... would be his fourth mistake. He shook his head. 

But he didn’t leave. 

So Rey stood up and marched right up to him. 

She hesitated barely a second before reaching up and putting her hands on each side of his helm.

He jerked back, out of her grasp. 

Kylo was tall, but not so tall she could not reach him again. He looked at her face — as dimmed as it was by his visor — and saw not anger or contempt, but something else. Something softer. 

She was fumbling around the edges, searching for the catch, and his hands closed on her wrists, stopping her. 

“What do you think you’ll see if I take it off?” he asked her, the words echoing a painful memory he thought he had blotted out by now.

“Your face Ben. Just you.”

He couldn’t breathe anyway. He let go of her wrist and found the catch himself, then steeled himself as he lifted the heavy weight off his head. 

Rey caught her breath as she drank in the sight of him, just as she did every time. He was a bit red, a bit sweaty, his curls damp and falling around his eyes. A single ear peeked from between dark curls, strangely endearing, like his prominent nose. Almond eyes and plush lips beckoned for her mercy for a moment before he pressed them into a thin line. 

In turn, Kylo saw her true colors; the green of her hazel eyes, the golden shades of her skin. Her freckles; the reddish tint of her chestnut hair. 

“How long have you been hiding like this?” she asked him, and he knew immediately what her real question was.

_ How long have you been alone? _

“A few years now. Four, maybe five,” his answer surprised even him. 

She broke eye contact with him, glancing at a stool in the corner; inviting him to sit before craning her neck to look at him again. 

“Luke is not here to interrupt us now. No one can,” she said as she sat on her cot again. 

He thought she should be afraid of him. He thought he didn’t want her to be. He thought he should leave, but the way she looked at him, right through him to  _ Ben,  _ with genuine interest… he thought no one had looked at him that way in a long time. 

No... she had looked at him that way; in the lift to Snoke’s throne room as well. 

“Shouldn’t you be afraid of me then?” A reminder wouldn’t hurt. 

“No. Should I be? I know I don’t want to kill you anymore.”

Kylo hesitated another heartbeat before sitting down on the tall stool. Barely a meter separated them. He set the heavy helmet on the floor beside him. He felt tired. Tired of struggling. For a moment, in this cell, she offered him some peace.

“I’m sorry about the scar I gave you,” she said politely, then she amended, “That’s not really true.” She frowned, looking for better words to express her feelings. “I’m sorry we had to fight. I’m sorry Snoke made you into a monster.”

He was shaken by her words. The connection between them ran deeper than he had ever thought. It ran right to his core. His feet pushed against the floor, as if his body wanted to flee. Yet he remained seated, strangely compelled by her insight. 

“Rey,” he murmured the name, and it sounded like a mix of sunshine and rain. “I don’t mind the scar. You gave it to me when I found you.” It was a bold admission. His eyes flickered to her face, expecting to see mockery there, but of course there was none; only the same sadness he had shown her when she had told him of the Cave of Mirrors.

“We found each other.” 

He suddenly wanted to touch her again. His hand clenched in his lap. Rey saw it and her own hand clenched in sympathy. Her breathing quickened. She frowned. 

Looking at her, Kylo Ren saw and felt her feelings coalesce within her and he saw her make a decision he was unable to believe at first.

“We are connected, you and I,” she stated. “You hold me in a cell, but it’s you who is trapped.” Her face relaxed and she reached for his hand. “I’ll free you again.”

As if of its own volition, his right hand lifted, reached to her again. Rey looked at the glove, her brow denting in just a hint of a frown. 

He knew what she wanted. His breath shortened in his breast. His pulse quickened. 

She wanted contact. 

For a second, their duel in the moonlit forest seemed tame in comparison to the terrible thing she was asking him now. Here, where the distance between them was not half a galaxy, but merely a stride, the girl  _ wanted  _ to touch again. She wanted to take his hand. Ben’s hand. 

Once again, Kylo Ren removed his thick leather glove. 

Thoughts raced in his head, none of them coherent. 

His hand naked, he stretched it out toward her. 

Just before they touched, she retreated her right hand and put forth her left one instead, raising it as she extended it, so the palm faced outward. 

So they would touch palm to palm. 

He was getting sweaty in his armor and cloak and cowl and in the little room that he had ensured was warm enough for her, knowing she was a creature of the desert. 

He reached forward, hand almost trembling in anticipation. When they finally touched hands he knew she saw the void of his loneliness. And she saw his own little Light still in him. 

At that moment, the fear he had felt for years, the fear of that little Light being discovered by Snoke, lifted. 

Just like that. 

No one who could discover that Light could hurt him. No one had any power over him anymore. 

He looked at Rey. He saw, mirrored in her eyes, her own fear: she had that mote of Darkness inside her. She had tried to hide it, even from herself. That  _ pull  _ to the Darkness. 

Their fingers twined. 

His pull to the Light; her pull to the Darkness. 

Somehow, the gap between them closed and she stood before him, between his knees. He was backed into a corner, eyes almost level with hers. 

“Rey...” he breathed, his voice even lower than his normal baritone, but past her name, he had no idea what he wanted to say. 

He felt like an open wound, raw and hot, and she felt like cool waters and somehow that was the image he conveyed to her, much to his chagrin at having no words to speak, but plenty of feelings of pain to share. 

“Yes Ben, I’m here.” 

He remembered the vague threat he had made her in the interrogation room. How he could “take whatever he wanted”. He supposed it had been true at some time in his life, when as a new Ren, they had roamed the systems, leaving terror in their wake; but that power had not lasted. Between his Master’s vise-like grip on him and his own revulsion faced with certain acts, he had not taken so much as threatened to take. 

His power had been an illusion bound in armor, mask, and a crimson, sputtering lightsaber that could explode or fizzle out at any time. 

Rey raised her other hand, palm towards him. He mirrored her move, and she clasped his hand, and then firmly grasped the top of his glove’s fingers and pulled it off. 

He shook with fright. A new fear.

He had caught her, and instead of fighting him she was digging into him. 

He had offered her the Galaxy but, he realized, she had asked him to spare the life of her friends. 

“I’m sorry,” he offered. “I didn’t understand what you wanted from me.”

Her face was serious. “Do you know, now?”

“Ben. You want Ben.”

She nodded.

From the back of his throat, a sound escaped, like a bird, like a sob.

His legs contracted again, feet pushing against the floor to flee but between his thighs the girl — the woman — felt the tremor and she let go of his second hand and simply let herself fall forward, to rest against his chest, her head on his shoulder. 

After a moment, he realized the wildly beating heart he felt was not just his, but hers as well. His hand had remained stuck in the air; now he let it fall across her back. 

He felt her warmth all pressed up against his torso, her weight on him; their fingers still intertwined in his right hand, her hair brushing against his cheek. 

“Take him. Take me,” he whispered. 

Rey from Jakku turned her face to his and gently kissed him. 

He closed his eyes as his heart leapt into his throat. 

He could barely remember what it was like to be kissed. Some woman, long ago, had wanted to teach him things — when he’d started under Snoke. Then a string of women, some older, some younger… his Master’s promise of passion fulfilled. For a while. Until Snoke had changed the conditions, wanting him to  _ assert dominance _ . 

He found the exercise repulsive. Snoke had mocked him, calling him sentimental like his grandfather. Kylo Ren had raged then, erupting with feelings he couldn’t even name. 

And had remained chaste after that. 

The Ren armor helped; covered head to toe in its thick leather and multilayered wools and linens, he had successfully isolated himself from human contact. Only the medics ever saw him — let alone touch him — and even that had lessened as he’d learned to avoid his Master’s punishments. Droids did the work now. 

Where was Snoke now? He’d pushed his remains out an airlock, to Hux’s horror. It was a petty move, but he’d felt visceral satisfaction doing it. He’d returned the monster to the black void it had come from. 

Rey the Scavenger was moving on him, her hands kneading his hands and his flank, her mouth leaving a trail of kisses from his cheek to the corner of his mouth. He was stiff and still and knew he should be reacting, but none of his instincts seemed appropriate: he could only react to her own fear and anticipation. 

And excitement.

Their proximity let him feel the currents moving through her. Intense curiosity. Fright. Desire. 

He kept his eyes closed. Her weight through his armor, her staggered breath, her wild musk were already threatening to overwhelm him. When she kissed his mouth, he shuddered and turned away; but he pulled her against him.

Then he released her. “I- I can’t,” he explained, “I’ll hurt you.”

“No,” she countered, “don’t. You asked me to join you; were you planning on hurting me then?”

“No, I…” the truth was, he hadn’t thought things through. “I hadn’t “planned” anything.”

“ _ Would _ you have hurt me then?”

He didn’t know. He remembered how he’d wanted to  _ kill  _ her after her escape. How he’d wanted to kill everyone,  _ everything _ .

She picked up on that remembered feeling and shuddered. She took and held her breath, let the fear wash over her and through her, like a dark tide, for the space of a few heartbeats.

They both did.

Then she reached for the clasp of his thick padded tunic. She struggled with the hook of the first one and for a moment he struggled with himself, hands fallen to his side. She was the one reaching for him. He let her. 

She unhooked the first one with a little grunt of satisfaction. His manhood suddenly twitched in his breeches, reminding him of his body, and his body’s wants. 

He reached for her hands again, forcing her to look at him. In her eyes, he saw her relative youth, her inexperience. He also saw her determination. 

He’d pushed everyone away. He’d hidden himself in the Outer Reaches of the galaxy and only chance had brought him to this sector, to Jakku, to her. Or the Force had. 

“You don’t know what you’re doing.” 

“Does it matter? Don’t you? I’ve seen that you do.” She managed a second clasp. 

His thumb was on one of her wrists; he could feel her lifeblood pulse there, fast and strong. 

His heart ripped open, and in a moment of clarity he knew he should let her go. 

He managed a choked “Go. Leave now. I’ll make them.” 

The Scavenger was not going to be frightened again. “Not without you, Ben Solo.” 

He felt a flash of light, thunder boomed in his head. Then the skies opened up. There was immense sky, there was space, there was the galaxy — all laid before him. Before them.  He released her wrists. 

She realised he had his wide belt and took it off him before continuing on the tunic. He took another breath when it hit the floor beside his helm. His cloak followed, falling softly on top of them.

He was the Supreme Leader, conquering the galaxy with the greatest military might known since the Empire. Nothing could stop him. Not one guard or General would walk in and stop him from taking the girl. 

Not one stormtrooper would stop him from walking out with her. 

He was terrified. She undid a third clasp, then another. Then another. Then the last one. 

She took a shaky breath and parted the padded leather to put a hand on his flank. The soft undershirt was fine-woven bantha wool. He felt her every finger on his stomach. Suddenly he reached for her face and drew her close into a new kiss, just to know. 

Just to be sure. 

*

Rey of Jakku knew Ben Solo belonged to her. She was certain of it. All she had to do was pry him out of the armor of Kylo Ren and take him with her. 

The kiss he gave her was a question, and she answered in kind. Yes, she would take him. Yes, she would stay with him, but not within the First Order. 

Splitting the armor open was like splitting a shell, a carapace; she pushed at it, over one shoulder then the other, until it came off and fell to the floor in a flap of leather and a tinkle of small buckles. 

Kylo could breathe again. Keeping his mouth on hers, he parted his lips, letting his tongue peek out just slightly, as if curious. 

It was met with moist warmth, teasing and pushing back.

Rey found the ties of his arm-guards gripped across his wide chest and worked at those too. Once undone, she started to peel one off and this time Kylo broke the kiss, his heart beating wildly. 

Alabaster skin appeared and she reached for it, feeling solid muscle beneath it, tracing the first scar she saw, the first one she had punched into him, the one that had told him that he could _not_ , in fact, take whatever he wanted. The one that had told Rey that she was stronger than she knew. 

*

He felt small calloused fingers warm and dry on his skin, a sensation not felt for years. 

The caress of a woman.

If Snoke had been alive, Kylo would have heard the  _ voice  _ urge him to “take her like a bitch.” He could still hear phantom echoes from time to time, like now, and he resisted the urge to obey, knowing it was better to lose to the Scavenger than to obey the Master. 

For now, this terrible breach of his intimacy by his reluctant enemy was more pleasure than he had allowed himself in years. Until recently — when he’d started dreaming of the hazel-eyed girl he had captured on Takonada. He’d dreamed of her touching him... and touched himself. 

She leaned forward and gently kissed the ghostly wound. She kissed a line of kisses up his throat. 

Kylo was submerged in the wave of desire he could hardly believe, nor deny, that flowed from the girl he had insulted and threatened and imprisoned. The arm-guards fell to the floor in turn and he reached for her face again, to pull her in for more kisses, this time deeper and bolder. His thumb lay over her throat, feeling her heart beat there, his fingers entwined in her hair. 

He could end his torment now. 

She put her own hand on his face, her thumb placed exactly over the greater scar she had put on him. On his cheek where his dying father had touched him before falling into the void. 

He could  _ end  _ his torment now. 

Rey pulled away from him and looked into his eyes. “I’m scared too,” she told him. 

She slid her hand down his throat to his chest, her touch tingling on every inch of his skin along the way. “But I want to know why the Force is connecting us, you and I.” 

And that was indeed the factor he had to consider: the Force Bond. 

The woman Rey was no ordinary woman. She was not some bait sent to him by Snoke to test him. She was not some ambitious girl trying to improve her social status, or getting some twisted pleasure from seducing a monster. She was a Force-user, a powerful one at that. 

_ Connected  _ to him. 

Snoke had lied about the bond; it had surprised him into making the mistake that had cost him his hold on Kylo, and his life.

Rey was here  _ for  _ him. Or rather, for Ben Solo. And she was touching him, physically, sensually...  _ sexually _ . She wanted to find out how  _ deep  _ the connection went. 

Ben Solo knew the Force. Kylo Ren knew the Force. Rey the Scavenger wanted to know the Force. And Ben. And even, to some extent, Kylo. 

Kylo Ren, Master of the Knights of Ren, Supreme Leader of the First Order, Heir apparent to Darth Vader, etc, etc, 

Visiting his prisoner Rey Nobody from Nowhere, in her cell. 

By the Maker, he’d never felt so terrified in his life. 

He laughed. 

Rey pushed herself away from him, cheeks flushing red with embarrassment. Kylo hushed himself, and brought her close again, into what could only be described as... an embrace.

“Rey, I’m sorry,” he told her, “I guess I don’t know what to do after all.” It was true, in a way: sure they could strip, he could penetrate her body with his and rut until he climaxed. He could probably find the way to bring her to climax as well. He knew the mechanics well enough. 

But that was not what this was about. It wasn’t the meeting of bodies. He looked around them for the first time since he’d walked in: the neon-lit, black-tiled cell. The minimal amenities. The little cot. The one-way mirror window in the door. 

He looked at Rey again. “I don’t really know what this means to you. But it means… it means something to  _ me _ .” 

Rey stilled in his arms. She’d had some vague notion that they would be naked and Kylo/Ben would be doing… the thing to her by now, and she would get her answers through some Force Vision. That in the end Ben would come away with her, and the war would end. That he’d be the one to turn and… and her idea stopped there. Instead…

Instead, Ben Solo wanted a promise from her. 

She felt stupid. Of course, he’d had sex before. She’d gleaned that from his memories. What made her think  _ her  _ sex would be enough to take down the Supreme Leader Kylo Ren? Unless it was  _ more  _ than sex. Unless it was something worth more than the Galaxy. 

_ You’re nothing. But not to me, _ he’d told her.

These thoughts swirled inside her, doubt and desire. They were alone in a room with a cot. He — whoever  _ he  _ was, Ben or Ren — was partly undressed before her. They’d kissed.  _ Maker _ , how they kissed — and her whole body had woken up with those kisses. She had dreamed of kissing him for weeks, now. 

“No,” she told him, “I don’t know what it means. I just want the conflict to end. I just want to know how it feels. And I want it to be you.” She reached for her own tunic, to remove it. “Here. Now.” Before she lost her nerve. “We’ll find out what it means later.”

He grabbed her arm before she could complete the motion. “At least… at least let me bring you to my quarters, where there’s a proper bed… and intimacy.”  _ And dignity,  _ he added mentally. 

"To your quarters…” She mulled over that. Into his intimacy. Well, she was practically begging him into her own body, how could his quarters be any worse than this anonymous cell. On  _ his  _ ship. Of  _ his  _ army. “Right.”

She backed away to let him stand, and reluctantly, he picked his things up. Then he gave them to her to carry them. She looked at him, not understanding. 

“We are going to trick the guards,” he decided. “Keep your head down and don’t say anything, unless I tell you what to say. Can you do that?” 

She nodded, looking at the floor. 

“Good.” He undid her hair and pulled at her clothes a bit to mess them up. He carried his mask on his hip. Then he took a deep breath and opened the door. 

The first set of guards said nothing and let them pass; the Supreme Leader in front, the Scavenger shuffling behind him, carrying his heavy tunic and arm-guards clutched to her chest. At the exit of the cell block, a zealous captain left the little office to intercept them. “Sir…” he stammered wide-eyed at the sight of a half-undressed Supreme Leader, “You, you can’t just take the prisoner with you.” 

Ren stood silent, patiently waiting for the man to think things through. Rey bent her head even more, hoping to look properly subdued. 

The captain swallowed a lump in his throat, and added in a thin voice: “I need to explain her being moved, Sir. The datawork. Please, Sir.”

“I’m taking the Last Jedi to my quarters to claim her as my consort.” 

There were shocked gasps all around. He heard Rey’s gasp as well, but kept his cool demeanor. Then she swore softly. 

The young captain suddenly straightened, eyes wide in a blanching face, posture impeccable. “Sir, I- I don't know how to register that.” 

“Write that I am taking the Last Jedi. To my quarters. And I won’t be interrupted.” 

“Y-yes Sir, of course Sir. No interruptions.” 

“Good work, Captain.”

They marched off, Jedi-Killer and Jedi-Aspirant in tow behind him. 

Rey wanted to question his choice of words, but there were guards every ten or twelve meters, so she kept quiet. As she reflected on the implications, she realized they were the same as if she’d simply accepted his proposal on the  _ Supremacy _ , only weeks ago. 

_ He offered to let you go just now... and you insisted on taking him with you,  _ she reminded herself as they marched down the corridors towards the shuttle that would take them to his suite of rooms in the bow of the ship. When the current occupants saw who was stepping in — and their state of undress — they quickly exited the little car, completely dumbstruck. 

In the shuttle, Ren remained standing. After a moment, Rey put the equipment on a seat and moved close to him. After another moment, he put an arm around her, pulling her close. Neither spoke. Feelings weaved through the Bond. Some fading, some blooming. 

When the car stopped, he picked up his things, letting her carry the cloak, and they made their way to his private lift to his Supreme Quarters. 

He dropped everything on the little desk in the boudoir when they passed the heavy black door. 

He put down his Ren Saber next to Anakin’s restored one they had confiscated from her. It was Rey’s now. She had earned it. 

He commed his personal aide, Mitaka. “Have food brought up. Extra setting. And some light clothing for a medium-sized female. You know the one. Light training gear for the Elite squadron.” There was barely a moment’s hesitation before a surprised “Yes, Sir.”

Rey stood uncomfortable. Clothing? Why would he ask for clothing? She looked down at herself: she was filthy. He walked her to the ‘fresher room and started the shower. He rummaged into the little linen closet and brought out plush indigo towels and a washcloth. He put them on a little stool beside the showerstall and came out to invite her in. He indicated a thick bathrobe: “It’s too big for you, but you can wear it while clean clothes arrive. Go wash, take your time.” Kylo took his boots off, sighing with relief. “Food should be here soon.”

*

Rey felt foolish locking the fresher door, so she just closed it. She tested the water, then quickly undressed, dropping her dirty clothes on the floor and stepped under the luxurious stream of an actual water shower. She found the shampoo, washed her hair. Then she lathered herself with a spice-scented soap and scrubbed away days of grime and stress. She took her time. What the future held, she had no idea, in the present was this  _ pleasure _ .

When she came out, wrapped in that overlarge bathrobe, Kylo was sitting at a little table near the viewport, a rolling cart covered in dishes stationed beside it. Music played, some melancholy song. 

He had changed into loose britches and a light top, his feet bare. He’d tied his hair up in a bun, big ears sticking out on each side, making him look like a much younger man, almost a boy. 

He was staring out the viewport. They were orbiting some brown-green planet. 

She looked around the room they were in: mostly dark slate-colored plasteel walls, a dark wooden floor. A wall length bookcase. A reading chair with a tall lamp beside it. A portrait of Darth Vader hung opposite the bookcase on one side of a door leading to his bedroom. On the other side, a map of the galaxy. 

She saw beside her a straight-backed chair. Clean clothes were stacked there. He hadn’t stepped inside the fresher to put them on the stool for her to find them. She hesitated; why bother getting dressed?

Ren turned to look at her, eyebrows raised in a question. He shook his head as if to answer it himself, chin indicating the clothing. “Dress,” he said. 

“Why? I thought we’d…”

He shook his head. “I won’t be rushed.”

_ Rushed! _ Rey was taken aback. Then she got angry. She walked over to stand before him, eclipsing his view of the space behind her. 

“Now you listen to me, Kylo kriffing Ren, I’m not playing games here. Minutes ago, in that cell - that  _ you  _ put me in - you asked me to take you, and I  _ will _ . You  _ told  _ people you were going to take me - and they were surprised - but I  _ agreed _ .” She took a shaky breath. “I’ve messed around with a few boys, but I never…” She was distraught. Did he want her to beg ?

He looked up at her, eyes widening with every statement. She stood before him, in his bathrobe, the emotions washing from her so violent he felt caught in a storm surge. How could she want him so much ? How could she keep her unspoken promise? How could he ?

He lifted his hand to her so she could take it, then pulled her into his lap to sit so she could lay her head on his shoulder and look at the stars with him. He held her close. For a moment, they were still and silent. 

She clasped his hand and twined her fingers in his, and turned her head away from the stars to nestle her nose under his jaw. Then she kissed him under the jaw. 

His other hand raised and found her throat and rested there, feeling her pulse, strong and sure

Then he let it slip lower, over her breastbone, to between the folds of the bathrobe. He reached into a side for a breast. Palmed it and the nipple hardened; he caressed it gently. He slid his hand across and reached for the other breast. 

Rey’s breathing was heavy, making his cock twitch. He could see her small breasts now, rose colored areolas hinting at the color down below. He slid his hand lower over her hard stomach, in sync with their deepening kisses, the robe opening for him, barely kept closed by the last few inches of the fabric belt.

He found her mound, unshaved, and the soft, tickling feeling of it reminded him of petting an animal; her low moans contributed to this. Her legs spread open ever so slightly for him.

He let her pull his shirt over his head and she caressed him appreciatively, not saying anything but he understood that whatever boys she met before were as undernourished as she was, though they must have been strong enough to survive. Kylo had been blessed with good genes, good nutrition and good training: he knew he looked like a young bull. 

He reached lower, finding her folds, gently fondling before pushing fingers between them. Warm and dry at first, until he finds moisture. Much moisture. 

He broke the kiss, brought his fingers to his mouth. He wanted to taste her. 

The smell of the soap was still present, but some of her musk was there. The taste was salty, the texture thick but clean on his tongue. His cock throbbed again, a good heave. She opened her eyes to see him lick his fingers, not quite sure of what he was doing so he made a show of wetting them before putting them back on her folds. 

Something else she hadn’t experienced. He’d get to that later.

Fingers slightly spread, he started to rub circles to coat his fingers in her slick, and she relaxed into his touch. She knew this. 

His other hand is played softly with her breasts, occasionally moving up to her throat where he could hold her, feeling her heart pulse, and they continued deep kisses, tongues sliding and dancing together in a tango that followed the rhythm of the music in the background.

It was intoxicating. He could take his time. He was in power here: no one would interrupt them, not even Hux. Snoke was long gone from his mind. Only Rey was here with him. 

Rey who was now reaching under his waistband to find and grasp his cock, and after a nervous exhale, was softly stroking him. Feeling all around for his length and girth and he got the feeling she was trying to gauge him, a bit intimidated. Well, there was that. He’d make sure she was good and ready to take him before he did. 

He pressed against her clit and he felt its swollen length; she moved with him, swaying in rhythm. Her thighs tensed but he continued to circle and rub, though with more pressure as his fingers were now slick and he felt the moisture running down her perineum to below. 

She was making more noise now, little “ahs” and “umms” and he waited for her next move, teasing her as long as she could stand it. 

Finally she abandoned his cock to find his hand, moved it over her, and then she pushed one of his fingers inside her. 

She broke the kiss again; the sensation was intense, she let her head loll back onto his shoulder and he could feel how her whole body was getting caught in the tide of pleasure he was giving her. The angle was right, he could gently thrust in and out and still rub her clit. Her body tensed and he pushed a second finger in. 

She breaks into a flush and he could feel her get close to climax; moaning, mewling almost; so he slowed, and just slipped in and out, in and out, deepening the strokes. 

In a state near bliss, numb and tingling at the same time, Rey completely surrendered to her captor, incapable of anything but tensing and relaxing her thighs, her pussy clenching involuntarily at this point, the sensations going on and on and she too realized there was time for this pleasure. 

From her lush cunt Kylo smelled her musk wafting up to him and his mouth watered at the feast he was preparing for himself. He pushed a third finger carefully in and felt resistance as she tensed, so he slowed even more, just stretching her a little bit for later, then removed it and resumed the stroking, though now she wouldn’t relax anymore. 

He sped his caresses, his other arm reaching around her to hold her in place. 

It’s beautiful, the way she arches back and gives a loud cry like she’s falling off a ledge, and he feels every pulse of her climax before stopping his motion to just clamp his hand on her mound, squeezing softly, barely moving his fingers inside her. 

She shuddered and he could tell she’s not used to such strong orgasms. She was panting and shaking and he gathered her close, pulling his fingers out reluctantly, and she pulsed at every inch. He held her, waiting. 

That was a bit much. They would have time to enjoy the food before he could touch her again. 

*

The dinner was a sumptuous combination of tender meats smothered in sweet or spicy sauces, vegetables grilled with exotic herbs and a textured, nutty bread that smelled and tasted better than anything she had ever had. Fresh and candied fruit made up dessert. Rey was unused to wine, but this one was a rose-colored marvel that eased her thirst and helped her relax until she could actually hear the music and appreciate the company she was in. 

“You could live like this,” he told her quietly, and she considered it for a moment between mouthfuls of sauce-dipped bread. The luxury, the power. The pleasure. The access to knowledge, training, traveling. She tried to imagine herself slowly turning the First Order around to become a benevolent force in the galaxy. 

It was too much. And there was something she needed she thought she could never have here.

“I want a family, Ben.”

For a long moment, Kylo Ren said nothing, eating his own food. 

*

He was careful not to sate his appetite. He would take her here, in his bed, as an ultimate defiance to the First Order. 

They stacked their dishes onto the little cart and he dimmed the light and put on another playlist of that music he favored. He came to stand before the immense bay window; the planet had drifted almost out of view to the right while a bright orange and silver moon appeared from the left. The space before the viewport was a padded bench that curved on the side into a comfortable seat, for when he wanted to half lay down and watch the world revolve around him. A single flexible light shone down from the side, onto a stack of books piled up on a little table.

“I sit there when I miss you,” he told her, because he felt it was important she should know, and he invited her to sit in his favorite spot. There was just enough room for him to squeeze in beside her. A few cushions were placed for them to be cosy and comfortable, looking at the gibbous moon slowly filling the void; they were closer to it than the planet, and it looked huge, close enough to touch it. 

“Did you miss me?” She sounded surprised he felt that way about her. 

“Every chance I got.” 

She leaned towards him and kissed him tenderly. He felt it intensely, and he trembled at the feelings imparted. He returned her kiss and deepened it.

He’d pleased her with his fingers before, now he wanted desert. His kisses became charged with hunger, and she moaned into his mouth before she broke the kiss, breathless. He moved down her jawline, sucking slightly when he got to the soft skin of her throat. When she tilted her head to offer him more skin, he sucked at it hard. She knew he was marking her. He continued down, letting his lips follow the trail his hands had taken before, and she settled further down when he reached her breast, letting him suckle at her while his fingers again reached for her mound between raised knees. 

“I should do something for you,” she murmured, to which he mumbled, “later.”

She was still moist from his early ministrations, and this time, when he brought his fingers to his mouth, he made a show of licking them. Her musk had infused the slick now, waking deep instincts in him. 

Her eyes widened: “You- You do…  _ that  _ ?” she wanted to protest, raising herself up on her elbows, “you don’t have to do that...”

“Hush” he told her, “You’re not in the desert now, and even if you were, I’d still enjoy it.” The taste of a woman’s body always told him stories he wanted to know. 

And he very much wanted to know Rey of Jakku. She lay back down and a beautiful blush covered her cheeks and throat. She turned to look out the window, at the twinkling space and the pregnant presence of that huge moon. He pushed softly on one golden thigh, and after a little tremor she let it fall open. He placed himself between her legs, and looked at her for a minute. 

“What a beautiful Desert Flower you are,” he told her, enchanted at the sight of her rose petals, seeing the nectar just glimmer on the edges. He used his fingers to spread her just slightly, seeing the nub wink from within its hood. He started with soft kisses. 

Rey had not been kissed much in her life, and she’d never been kissed  _ there _ . It just wasn’t something that was done in the desert with little water to clean yourself up with. She’d heard of it, of course. It was a promise made to her by the older men in the village, if she’d only let them take care of her. She hadn’t wanted them. 

She wanted Ben though. For the first few seconds, she tried furiously to think of how she may repay the kindness later, her little experience barely serving her here, when she received her first real lick and every coherent thought went out the viewport as surely as if it had blown out and she was sucked into outer space. She cried out as she bucked, and he pulled away. “Oops,” he laughed. And he looked at her as she colored again. Then she closed her eyes and settled down again, spreading her thighs just a bit more. 

She was so sensitive he put cushions under his knees as he settled himself on the floor beside the settee. Might as well get comfortable. He pulled her to the edge of the seat. 

Again, he took his time, lavishing her but gently, like one sips a fine nectar - which it was. Soon her feet fell lower, until they found the floor. Her core moved with him, and then a foot pushed on the floor so her hips rose while moans once again started escaping from her. He dug his tongue in and felt fasciculations agitate her, while her moans became louder and her feet pushed again, until she lifted her hips clear off the settee. He put his hands underneath her, and then put his whole mouth over her, devouring her in earnest like a starving man. She alternately stilled and tensed in his grasp, mewling very much like a manka cat, until he suddenly felt her coil like a spring, before releasing a long low howl. 

He stilled but stayed on her pulsing core, giving just a tiny flick here and there, like one keeps the motion on a flywheel. To his surprise, she cycled through a few orgasms, before finally giving up and falling inert, spent. 

_ Well now _ . 

She was numb and dizzy and if he let her she’d fall asleep right as she was, half off the settee and robe opened to reveal her nakedness and with her legs sprawled open. Kylo felt like a young god. 

Unfortunately, she was ruined for him tonight. Knocked out by her pleasure, there would be no further activities until she recovered. He picked her up, the robe falling off her to stay on the seat and she lay limp in his arms like when he’d taken her on that fateful day on Takonada. He brought her golden naked form to his room, lay her in his bed, and covered her in his sheets. 

He sat himself in his thinking chair, the orange moon now passing the center of the viewport. He thought of at least stroking himself, to relieve some of the pressure he had been holding in for hours, but the urge passed. 

Did he think he would seduce her to the Darkside by pleasuring her this way ? Maybe... Sex certainly had contributed to lure  _ him  _ in all those years ago, until Snoke had changed the rules on him. 

What kind of relationship would they have as Darksiders ? He thought of the pain the Dark also demanded. He tried to image hurting her: pinching her nipples, biting her, spanking her, ramming into her,  _ raping  _ her really and it was just as repulsive as it had always been. 

He couldn’t do it. The whole time he had pleasured her, it was always from that spot of Light in him. 

Because, as little as he knew her, he  _ loved  _ her. 

*

He answered a few messages that were waiting for him, Hux understandably demanding if by “consort” he meant he was marrying the Last Jedi, and he was tempted to task him with arranging the celebration. Very tempted.

But he should ask her first. 

That remark left Hux a little nonplussed, but he didn’t insist. 

The Skywalkers were a sentimental lot after all. Too bad his Uncle had resisted that Red-headed woman; things could have been different. 

He finally decided to go sleep with “the enemy”. 

*

He woke with a start, startling her in turn. “How long have you been watching me?” he asked, instantly awake.

“I- not long, I just turned over now.” She blushed. “We… we didn’t… I don’t think ?”

“No. You’d know if we had.” He smirked, that was a bit pompous… But it was true. 

“Oh. Do you still want to ?” She blushed a deeper rose. 

He answered her with a kiss. “Do you?”

She nodded. “But let me use the fresher, first.”

Relieving herself, Rey felt her flesh gingerly, found her folds a mess of dried juices but no harm. The wine could have contributed to her losing her head like that, but he had not taken further advantage of her. 

She picked up a washcloth and rinsed away some of last night's pleasure. She drank cool water, refilled the glass to bring to him. She looked at herself in the mirror, her eyes were a little red, her hair wild and loose around her shoulders. She saw she had a hickey on her throat, but no other mark. Not a scratch. 

She had pried Ben out of Kylo’s armor. Had she turned him back to the Light ? She thought of the insane pleasure he had given her. Had he turned her to the Dark ?

After such a night, waking up with him after hours of beneficial sleep in that huge bed, knowing everything she ever wanted was at her fingertips… She shook her head, she would save no one that way. 

And he had asked her to take him. Ben. She felt for the little implant in her arm. 

*

When she came back he had to smile at her determined look. He loved that frown. He loved any expression on her face. 

He loved  _ her _ . 

_ Maker _ , he was in trouble. He couldn’t keep her here with him. She wouldn’t stay. He had to start imagining a different life, and fast. 

She climbed into the bed and he snapped his attention back to her. The room had cyclical lighting to fake planetside cycles and the room was bathed in a soft light called “morning”, bathing them in all its glory. He drank from the glass she handed as he looked at his beautiful Desert Flower; she was in full bloom, for him. 

She threw the covers back to reveal him and saw he had kept his boxers. She tugged at them and he reflexively grabbed her hand. 

“Wait!” he yelped, half-laughing, half-serious. She leaned back, releasing the fabric. He looked at her and saw confusion on her face. He put down the glass.

He was a little nervous, more than a little nervous. He breathed through his nose for a few seconds, realizing he was really tamping down panic. It had been a while, since he’d let anyone touch him. He’d been more in control yesterday. Now… 

“I’m sorry,” she said, “I feel it too.” She sat back on her heels, just looking at him. He was almost naked. Everything about him was muscle attached to a huge frame. His face was as sensual as ever and she had a flash of what had pushed him away from the Jedi Order: that sensuality. 

His feet and his hands were huge; his skin was pale, marked here and there with scars she knew, and quite a few she didn’t. She sat closer to him, and traced a scar on his forearm. “How did you get this scar?” she asked. 

He reached for his arm to feel it. That was a scar he could tell her about. Some he couldn’t. “A trial with the Ren. Vicrul challenged me. I won. But he scored that mark on me.” 

Her hand moved to the next one higher on his arm: that one, from a hard-won skirmish on a colony, long ago, when he was just starting out. She moved to the next. She was caressing him, kneading some of his tension with her strong hands, and when she came across one he couldn’t - or wouldn't - remember she just massaged him instead. She made him turn over and sat on his buttocks where she asked about more scars but he quickly realised she was more interested in working him into a state of relaxation and trust. She worked his back, and she turned around and worked his legs, and he told her some of the stories etched into his body. When he hesitated, she didn’t insist. She turned to his back again and kneaded him like dough, moving forward to his shoulders and he felt her little cunt moist and warm against his lower back. 

When she pulled on his shorts to remove them, he raised himself and pushed them past his erection and she slid them off. She lay herself atop his back, and their heat melded together. She traced little circles around the scars on his shoulder, breathing the musk from his hair, uncovering one big ear and kissing it. Kissing the back of his neck. 

She took a breath to speak and he felt words rise up within her before she barely stopped them. 

“Ben,” she finally said instead, almost breathlessly, “I’m ready.” 

She slid off him and he turned on his side and she got a good look at him. 

_ Maker  _ he was beautiful. She reached for the hard smoothness of him and he let her, and he reached for her and drew her close. Her strokes became more assured as she learned him. They kissed while he again rubbed at her folds, feeling new moisture gather there, and he couldn’t resist another taste of her, this time using his fingers too. When she was getting close, he moved back from her, looking at her slick core glisten and pulse. She lifted her head up as he lay down beside her, reached for her hand, and pulled her on top of him. 

“I- I thought you would be the one… that the man…” She stammered a bit. 

“No. This is your first time?” She nodded. Did she have any idea the  _ gift  _ she was making him? “It’s best you take control.” He would just have to hold out. Maybe he should have relieved himself earlier. He pushed her up so she would straddle him. He placed her over himself, moving her over his ready cock, feeling her warm moisture cover him, encouraging her to rub on him in long strokes. He caressed her toned stomach, reaching for a small breast with one hand, while rubbing soothing circles with his thumb in one hip, eventually sliding a hand back to cup and caress her muscular buttocks. 

After a minute, she found the right motion, placed her hands on his chest, let herself rock on him. She could feel him pressed against her, each stroke passing ridges and chasing a particularly large vein, and when she moved forward a bit, she found the edge of his glans and the bump she hit was maddening, causing him to throb and her to change her angle, hips working to find a way to get more. 

Her hand grasped him and picked him up and squeezing him brought some of his own moisture out. She stroked him some more, fascinated by the cock that seemed to become hers by some trick of nature, and he warned her.

“Rey, it’s been awhile for me. If I come, it’ll go soft.”

“Right.” She thought for a moment. “That would even things out,” she said mischievously. 

“What?”

She resumed her stroking him. 

He’d asked for this, giving her control. Now he looked at her triumphant face, while she caressed him earnestly, moving back to give herself some room, her strong hands and arms giving him a job he would be proud of himself. When the ambient air seemed to dry things out too much, she leaned down and kissed his glans softly, then licked moisture on him, then took him in her mouth. 

It was his turn to surrender. She made a few clumsy tries while she tested her limits, gagging and giggling before finding a sweet spot between pressure and suction and soon he was grunting just as surely as he had made her moan in the hours before. Laid back, head tilted and one arm over his eyes, the other running softly through her hair, until it fell limply at his side. 

When his thighs tensed and he pushed himself up to warn her again, she released him from her mouth, but he climaxed anyway and she milked warm ropes from him onto his stomach. While he caught his breath, she put two fingers in the puddle and brought them to her lips to taste them, her expression appreciative. 

He remembered she was maybe twenty. He remembered his twenties, how full of sap he’d been. How hard it had been for all of Luke’s older students - and for Luke himself - to tame their primal instincts. They’d been lapses. And endless meditation. 

He wasn’t about to admonish her and make her meditate, though. 

Proud of herself, she hopped off the bed, looking for all the world as if she’d again beaten him in battle. She made for the fresher. 

“Would you marry me?” he blurted out, before she was too far away. 

She stopped in her tracks and turned to him. “Marry you? To be your... ‘consort’?” she asked, wide-eyed. She imagined Hux’s face. Leia’s face,  _ her  _ face. “I haven’t decided if I want to stay yet. Is this for the datawork?”

“For the data- no. No… because I want to.” His heart was in his throat. He couldn’t believe he’d popped her such an unexpected question. Again. Like in the throne room. “You don’t have to answer right away,” he relented. 

She nodded, but it meant that she would consider it. She went into the fresher. After a moment he got up himself, and went to relieve himself and wash in the little sink beside the shower. He cleared the fog from the mirror and gave himself a good look. Smiling back at him was Ben Solo. 

He left the ‘fresher to get dressed, his mind made up. 

*

Rey finished washing herself up, her mind in a turmoil. It was the same question, but the circumstances were different.  _ He  _ was different. They had been apart for a few weeks after Crait, the Bond still present but refusing to connect them, which was for the better while rage and resentment flared at each end. The fact that the Bond remained after Snoke’s death confirmed its permanence. 

The first week had been terrible. Rage and terror and grief - yes grief - had flooded the connection, as Kylo was released from his terrible Master, and emotions repressed for years surfaced and stormed within him. He had hidden in his rooms from his senior staff, but Rey had felt the change gradually — irresistibly — happen. 

Maybe she’d  _ let  _ them catch her. Escaping her cell just to force him to actually come to see her himself. 

He was ready to uphold his promise. Could she make the same commitment? The way fate had connected them… could she  _ not  _ ?

*

Ren commed his aide. “Mitaka, get me that tall fellow… what’s his name? Yeah, him, and TK-3460. I need them for a couple errands. Send them in in about twenty minutes. Thank you, Mitaka.” Then he turned to Rey who had joined him, standing naked, expecting an entirely different scenario: “Get dressed,” he told her. 

Ben went back into his bedroom where she followed him to get to her new clothes and saw him pull out a standard issue satchel and a duffel-bag, and stuff some clothing into the bag;  _ his  _ clothing. He rummaged around a hidden compartment in his closet to find a holocron, some galactics credits in a few different denominations and a blaster.

“You look like you’re packing to leave…” she said, astonished, and then she started to hop up and down. “You are! With me!” 

“I am.”

Rey put her hand over her mouth. A hundred questions whirled in her mind: where would they go? What would they do?

He walked out to his bookcase: stared at it with a frown on his face, and when she reached his side she was reminded of her wall of days back on Jakku. Then he seemed to make up his mind and picked up some bound textbooks - Sith and Jedi and a few she didn’t know. He handed them to her to put in the satchel. 

“You’ll have to carry those, if you don’t mind,” and he picked a few other objects from the shelves and stuffed those into the duffel bag as well. He looked at his drawings on his little drafting table. She walked over to look at them with him. She saw beautiful designs for weapons and ships like his Whisper TIE, some of flowers and animals, and of course, some of her. He picked up the calligraphy set and artist brushes and charcoals, and a roll of parchment of real paper. He left the drawings on the table; he could always make more. 

She looked at the bookcase again and searched and found every engineering data-book he had, and added those to the bag. 

*

When the door rang, the unlucky stormtroopers stepped in and were promptly stunned. 

Ren stripped the tall man, while Rey picked off the jacket and helmet of the woman. The clothing she wore was already part of the uniform. After a few hectic moments while she helped him don the unwieldy armor, they hid his Ren lightsaber in his breastplate and holstered their blasters. Then they picked up their bags, took a breath, and marched out of the Supreme Leader’s private quarters. 

The lift closest would bring them to his reserved hangar bay, where his command shuttle and his TIE-prototype  _ the Silencer _ awaited. He was tempted, but those ships were too conspicuous. One hangar bay over, however, was for the reception of goods. 

Sure enough, a few light freighters were docked. One had just finished offloading, its captain waiting for the datawork to go through. The new couple walked up to him and Ren mind-tricked him into taking them on. They all boarded the little ship. 

**

Hux looked around at the Supreme Leader’s quarters. The troopers were recovering, but apart from seeing a woman with the Ren, they remembered nothing more. He saw the leftover diner with the empty wine bottle. He saw the abandoned bathrobe on the settee by the viewport with cushions placed on the floor before it. He saw the bed in disarray, some stains on the sheets.  _ Consort  _ indeed. 

He’d always known Kylo was ill-suited for command. Now he’d abandoned his post. He hadn’t even left a note, nothing. 

_ Eloped _ , maybe? It was hard to tell if he would come back. The galaxy was vast, but the First Order had been Kylo’s home for years now. No one who’d grabbed so much power for himself would relinquish it for just a woman. Hux certainly wouldn’t. 

Mitaka stood beside him, sweating as if somehow this state of affairs was his fault. Hux almost pitied him. 

“Did you find how they got off-ship?” 

“We’re not sure yet, Sir. The transport tech on duty says he saw stormtroopers get on board a freighter. A tall one and a black-clad Elite.” 

“Find out which company, so we can track that freighter. Get this mess cleaned up.”

_ Love-struck fool _ , Hux thought.  _ What am I supposed to do with the First Order?  _ He would command it in the interim, that was certain. Then a thought struck him. 

“One more thing, Mitaka; find and send me the Knights of Ren.” They were the most skilled at finding rogue Jedi. They would either bring him back or kill him if he’d turned on them. 

*

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea how to finish this, so I leave it up to you, dear readers. 


End file.
